


Leavetaking

by Cheree_Cargill



Series: The Castaways [3]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Consensual Sex, F/M, Farewells, Leaving Home, Rejection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 05:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16696636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheree_Cargill/pseuds/Cheree_Cargill
Summary: This is a sequel to "The Castaways", following "Going Home".  Spock, Christine and the kids are leaving Vulcan to return to Avalon and they have an emotional farewell with Amanda.  Meanwhile, Sapel, on his own with a group of free traders, is introduced to his first sexual experience.





	Leavetaking

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Cheree Cargill and is copyright (c) 2013, 2017 by Cheree Cargill. This story is Rated R.

 The early morning sun was already scorchingly hot, but T'Sai Amanda aduna'Sarek cha'Skon hei-Kh'da'Ni'ikhirch, of the House Taldeen, wife and consort of the Fifteenth Lineal Heir of Surak and First Councillor of Vulcan, contentedly allowed the heat to bake into her aching bones. She had not felt well enough for some time to sit in her garden and take her morning _saya_ , enjoying the twitter of the little winged creatures that passed for birds or the scratching of the resident _qol_ as it tidied its burrow beneath the overgrown Terran rosebush. Amanda had been upset at first when the small rodent had taken up lodging there, but the rose had seemed to do better than ever. The constant cultivating and fertilizing the gerbil-like creature had provided it was the very thing the rose needed, other than some water. The _qol_ needed water, too, although not much, it being a desert-adapted beast, so the two diverse lifeforms had thrived.

Amanda had thrived here as well, going on 60 years, but time was passing more quickly now, or so it felt to the old woman basking in the sunlight. She was 91 now and her Earth-born body was beginning to feel the toll of living on a planet whose heavier gravity, thinner air and higher ambient temperature she had fought against for those six decades. Her bones were frailer, her joints afflicted constantly from worsening osteoarthritis, and her breath was shorter as well. She found that she needed oxygen more and more often and feared that soon she would not be able to continue to function without a constant supply. Even worse was the fact that she had had several skin cancers removed from her face and hands. Although she dressed in Vulcan fashion, covering as much as possible from the powerful UV rays of the planet's intense orange sun, the exposed portions of her body had gradually reacted to the damage.

And now she knew something that she had carefully concealed from her husband. The last cancer had been discovered within and Amanda had elected to do nothing about it. She was tired and had no wish to undergo the harsh treatments that were necessary in even the most advanced hospitals in the Federation. She was taking medication for the increasing pain, but she had determined that she would die in her own time and way. She had not told Sarek this, knowing that he would plague her with arguments about what was logical. He wouldn't understand. He still had a hundred years ahead of him, barring accident or catastrophic illness.

She gave a small, sardonic chuckle. "Catastrophic illness." That's what applied to her. Well, she had lived a good long life, raised a son to be proud of, and had lived to see her grandchildren grow and thrive. Especially Sapel... so much his father's son, whether Spock realized it or not. The young man was strong and had an independent streak a mile wide. She shouldn't have been so surprised when he had left home abruptly eight months before. Spock had done virtually the same thing at very nearly that age. He had no longer been able to tolerate the strait-jacket restrictions of Vulcan society and had sought his fortunes elsewhere.

Amanda sipped her _saya_ and let her thoughts drift over the last few months. She had been devastated when Sapel hadn't come home, taking to her bed for several days as her weakened body absorbed the shock. She had let Sarek and Spock think that it was because she was simply a silly old woman, unable to handle the strain of losing her grandson. Well, it _had_ been a strain, but then she figured it out and didn't worry about it beyond a concern for the young man's safety. No, she had grown to know Sapel far too well during the three years he had resided in their home while attending the Terran Embassy School. Sapel might have been a quarter Vulcan and the apple of his grandfather's eye, but he was three-quarters Human and a Grayson to boot. There was a core of steel in him that dated back to his Scottish ancestors. He would be all right. She would miss him terribly, but he would do well.

But now Spock and Christine had decided to return permanently to Avalon, taking their other four children with them. Their application for colonization had been expedited and approved, citing extraordinary circumstances, and they were packed and ready to leave within the next ten days.

Amanda realized with a stab of pain that it was almost a complete certainty that she would never see any of them again. She was dying and they would all be so very far away. She would never see T'Jenn blossom into the lovely young woman she was becoming. She would never see T'Kai grow into the stunning Vulcan beauty that the girl promised to become. And the twins... Soran and T'Larin were precocious and not yet spoiled by the rigid educational system of their father's planet. How she wanted to coddle them and keep them small. She wanted to walk on Earth's beaches with them and gather shells, or sit them on her knees and tell them tales, or bake cookies with them, or...

Without bidding, tears came to her eyes and she leaned her face into her hand, suddenly feeling the strength flow out of her body. Soon they would all be gone ... so soon...

"My wife?"

Sarek stood behind her, concern in his voice. She had no idea how long he'd been standing there, but she hastily wiped the tears away and straightened as best she could. "I'm fine, Sarek."

"You appear unwell." He was beside her now, peering down, not bothering to conceal his distress.

"I was just thinking about the children and how far away they'd be. Forgive me. I let my control slip."

Sarek smiled gently. "There is no reason to ask my forgiveness, _t'hy'la_. You know that. But perhaps it is time that you come inside and rest."

Amanda became aware that the heat had indeed become unbearable and that sweat was trickling between her thin shoulder blades. Even the _qol_ had gone back underground by now.

"Yes. Help me up, will you, dear? I'm a bit fatigued."

Sarek gently assisted his wife to her feet and supported her as she walked slowly into their home of so many years. As she allowed him to escort her to their bed chamber and then gently remove her outer garments so that she would be cooler, she carefully kept her innermost thoughts behind her mental wall. She could not afford to allow him to read her emotions as his fingers brushed her skin.

At last she lay back on her bed and sighed. "I'm just going to take a little nap, love," she said and closed her eyes. "Would you have me called in time for mid-meal if I'm not already awake?"

"Of course. If you need me, I will be in my office."

She lay still until she was sure he was gone, then opened her eyes and laboriously hefted herself up onto one elbow so that she could reach the drawer on the bedside table. From it she removed a prescription pack of pain pills and put one of the gels under her tongue. She carefully returned the pack to its hiding place, then settled back on her pillow, the drug already spreading through her system.

* * *

Dr. Christine Chapel absent-mindedly ticked the end of the stylus against her front teeth, her concentration centered on the datapadd she was studying. Around her were spread the packed belongings of her youngest children and even more of their things they were leaving behind. Four-year-old Soran had his arms around one of her legs, his face wrinkled in anguish.

"Wanna take it _all_ , Mama!" he wailed.

"Sweetie, we can't take it all. I've told you that before. You may choose one extra, special toy to take, but that's all. There just isn't room in the ship." Christine checked off items from her list. "Clothes ... shoes ... underwear..."

"Noooo!!!!" Soran interjected tearfully. "Want it _all_!!!"

"One extra toy. That's it."

This was answered by a screeching howl of protest and Soran fell to the floor, kicking and thrashing. His mother simply lifted her eyes to the heavens in silent prayer and went back to her list, knowing that the tantrum would play itself out in a few minutes.

Nevertheless, her husband appeared in the doorway, brows bunched in consternation. "May I ask...?" he said.

"Same old same old," Christine replied. "He wants to take all his toys."

Spock glanced down at his youngest son, who was stepping up his performance now that he had his father's attention. "Perhaps we could squeeze in a few more--"

"Absolutely not!" Christine cut him off. "I've got us packed to the maximum weight we are allowed to take. We've only got about five pounds leeway. And, anyway, I said 'no' to him and I mean 'no'!"

Soran had paused to draw breath and was listening to the exchange. He renewed his assault on their ears. Frazzled, Christine had had enough. Reaching down, she pulled him to his feet and swatted the child's bottom with the palm of her hand. "Time out, mister! Go sit in that chair until you can behave properly!"

The child did as he was told, although his angry sobbing kept up at full volume.

Christine ignored him and turned her back so that she could have a whispered conversation with her husband. "Don't overrule me again in front of him, Spock!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "I'm having enough trouble getting the twins ready for this move. I've got to maintain discipline!"

The Vulcan raised a startled eyebrow, then his expression softened. "My apologies, my wife. You are correct. I violated chain of command." His eyes held amusement and affection. "The Captain would never have overridden my orders without good reason. I was simply reacting to Soran's hysterics."

"I know you are and that's exactly what he was hoping for," she answered. "He thinks if he throws a big enough fit, he'll get his way." She couldn't help but smile up at her tall husband. "He doesn't realize that I've been through the Terrible Two's and the Terrible Four's and the Terrible Whatevers before. I'm a master!"

"Indeed." Spock reached up to softly run his fingertips down her cheek. "May I return to my work without further interruptions?"

Soran's sobs had lessened to hiccuping sniffs and Christine glanced around at the boy. "I think so. We'll try to keep it quiet in here."

"Thank you." Spock exchanged meaningful looks with his young son and left the room to go back to his office.

Christine turned back to her child. "Are you ready to be a good boy?" Soran nodded, sniffling, and stuck two fingers in his mouth. "All right. Come tell Mommy you're sorry and give me a hug."

The child got down and ran to throw his arms again around his mother's leg, although this time seeking comfort. Christine reached down and picked him up, cuddling him. "That's my big boy," she whispered. "Now, do you want Mommy to help you pick out which special toy to take?" He nodded, fingers still in his mouth. "Okay ... what shall it be ... your teddy bear or your fuzzy _sehlat_?"

* * *

Samerin was a frontier planet, sparsely settled, whose primary industry was the mining of the tagerite ore which was used in the manufacture of transparisteel panels on other Federation worlds. Its main city, Lodestone, was surrounded by mountains riddled through with working mines and whose inhabitants consisted of miners, merchants, prostitutes, gamblers, and those whose professions kept such a town running. There was also a good sized security force that kept lawlessness to a minimum. It was a town that depended on the frequent stops by Free Traders who brought in the luxuries and necessities unavailable otherwise.

Sapel had never been here before and was eager to explore as the Free Trader _Mandalay_ settled onto the crude docking pad outside of town. In the months that he'd been aboard the freighter, they had visited numerous other planets, but they were steadily moving away from the Federation worlds and towards the Beta Quadrant. They weren't far now from the Romulan Neutral Zone and Avalon, his ultimate destination.

Now 21 years old, Sapel had matured into a handsome young man, broad of shoulder and as tall as his father, Spock. He was more muscular, however, and made an impressive figure in his trader clothes and boots. His raven black hair had grown out below his shoulders and he had experimented with facial hair in different configurations. Currently, he was wearing a close‑clipped beard and mustache, his long locks pulled back into a ponytail that cascaded down his back.

"You ever been here before, Bully?" the young man queried the Cargomaster of the ship, his eagerness barely in check. "What's it like? What's there to do here?"

Bully Hardman laughed. "First things first, kid. Cap's got to meet with some people and do business, see what they need and do some tradin'. Then we unload, take on any cargo they have, and once all that's done, then it's time to play. And, yes, I been here a few times. What there is to do here is mainly gamblin' and whorin'. I wouldn't advise you to hit the gamblin' dens, though. These folks are pros. You'd come back with your skin and nothing else. No, you'd be better off just to do some shopping and maybe find a nice girl to bed." The big man turned away, paused, then turned back and asked seriously, "You ever had a woman, kid?"

Sapel felt his face reddening. "Uh … no. There were just my sisters on Avalon and womanizing wasn't something you did on Vulcan. At least not the way I was brought up. My mom would have killed me and my dad would've held me while she did it."

"Well, then, I think it's time you became a man," Bully grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I'll take you to Madame Xinda. She'll take real good care of you. It's time you got laid."

* * *

Spock had worked late into the night, finishing the many items of business that must be done before their departure the next day. Going down his checklist to make sure he had not missed anything, he was satisfied to see that all was done except one final thing and now he turned to that, pressing the house comm button and saying softly, "Slohn, would you come to my office, please?"

There was an immediate reply. "Acknowledged."

The wait was not long. Slohn must have been nearby, for the office door opened in just a few minutes. The man who stepped in was tall and fit, a middle-aged Vulcan with heavy-set brows and a passing resemblance to Spock’s father, his face lined and his dark hair streaked with grey. "You wished to see me, cousin?" he asked.

"Yes. Will you take _chai_ or wine?" Spock answered, rising to greet his kinsman.

"Thank you, but no. After we finish our business here, I intend to retire for the night and these drinks interfere with the sleep of an old man." There was the hint of a smile at the corners of his broad mouth.

"Very well. Sit, please, and let us finish here. And for what it's worth, I do not consider you old by any means. In fact, were it not for the will of our Second Forefather, you would be in this chair and not I."

Both men sat, the big desk between them, and Spock picked up a particular datapad from the stacks that crowded the surface. "I have finished going through all the business of Keldeen and I believe that I leave everything in order for you. After our departure tomorrow, should you have any questions, you will be able to reach me on the _Kroel_."

"I believe that we have knotted all the threads, as the _qomi_ say," Slohn replied, humor in his eyes.

"Tied up loose ends, I think is the correct phrase," Spock corrected him. "Although I cannot tell you what that means, exactly. Mother used to say it occasionally, but she could never tell me its origin, either. Be that as it may, let us finish here." He looked back down at the datapad in his hands. "This document gives legal title as the Elder of Keldeen to you and your descendants. It also transfers to you my position as Sixteenth Lineal Heir of First Seat on the Council and affirms that I abdicate that position and that I abdicate for my son and his heirs."

For the first time, Slohn looked solemn and extremely serious. "Are you absolutely certain this is wise, Spock? I am fully willing to take Keldeen, but your birthright? That is something altogether different. You should not surrender that. And what will your son say? You have not consulted him. And what about Soran? He is a small child now, but someday he may wish to claim his right to that seat."

"I have thought and meditated long and hard on this decision, Slohn." Spock’s expression was grave and he lowered his gaze to his hands. "I share something with you, my cousin, which I do not wish you to repeat. You know that my brother Sybok was disowned by our father. When I was born, Sarek thrust all his hopes and plans onto me. When I disappointed him, as well, he was again at a loss for those plans until he discovered that he had a grandson, and then he intended for Sapel to take up his mantle. But my children are even more Human than I am and Sapel could not live with Sarek's vision of a perfect Vulcan any more than I could. It is the reason he fled nearly a year ago." Spock paused and his lips tightened. "I will not sacrifice any of my other offspring to my father's ambitions. If they later choose to condemn me for that decision, so be it. But Christine and I have decided to allow them to grow up in an environment in which they can develop to be the people they choose, and not the people others intend for them to be." Spock looked back up and met his cousin’s eyes. "Am I being illogical in this?"

Slohn did not speak for a moment, then answered, "I can find no fault in your logic. I knew Sybok well. He and I are of the same age and I remember how your father reacted when Sybok chose his own way and left Vulcan. I also remember how Sarek reacted when you chose to go to Starfleet Academy. Spock, my cousin, we are of one blood but we are also of one mind. I will tell _you_ something now. Your father Sarek is exceedingly arrogant and prideful, and the rest of the family pays due to his position in the lineage, but most do not agree with him or respect him as a man. I believe that many of us would do as you are doing if we had the chance."

Slohn did smile then. "So, let us sign the document and be done with it. You have a long journey to begin."

"Indeed." Spock’s eyes crinkled with humor and he placed the datapad on the desk and pressed his thumbprint into the interactive surface. Then he passed the instrument across the desk to Slohn, who repeated his actions. The datapadd registered both prints as valid and noted that the document had been accepted and forwarded to Central Archives for recording.

The two men stood and faced one another, where Spock lifted his right hand in _ta'al_ and said solemnly, "Live long and prosper, Elder of Keldeen and Sixteenth Lineal Heir of the First Seat of the Council. May your service be fruitful and full of esteem."

"Peace and long life, Spock, my revered kinsman," responded Slohn, also lifting his hand in salute. "May your journey into your new life be full of promise and reward." He dropped his hand and smiled. "Now, go to bed. You have served the family well. I will shoulder your burden from here. You have a long day tomorrow."

Spock nodded his appreciation. "My thanks, cousin. I suspect that Christine is wondering what keeps me from her side."

Their business done, the two men left the office, turning out the lights on the way, and both ascended the stairs to their own bedchambers and their respective wives.

* * *

Lodestone's main street fascinated Sapel and he had to stop and peer into every window. Bully Hardman was patient. It was the kid's first venture off the ship since they touched down here and every new planet was like opening a new Christmas present for the young man. Despite the fact that they were headed for the kid's best present of all – Madame Xinda's brothel – the big cargomaster let Sapel window shop. Fortunately, he mainly just wanted to look at what was for sale in the various stores. Bully had warned him not to spend all his money beforehand. Madame Xinda's girls weren't cheap.

But then Sapel stopped dead in his tracks and amazement covered his face. "I want to buy something here, Bull," he said, his eyes still locked on the show window.

Hardman joined him to see what was so fascinating and realized that they were standing in front of a weapons store. Displayed in the front window was a beat-up looking Klingon blaster pistol. "Are you kiddin' me?" Bully asked. "You don't want that piece of junk."

"Yeah, I do," Sapel replied eagerly, then looked up at the man beside him. "Bull, everybody on the ship has a sidearm. Everybody except me. When you all go out armed, I feel naked. If something happened to any of you, I couldn't do a thing. Why doesn't the Cap'n trust me with a gun?"

"You ever fired one of those things?" Hardman asked, his gaze level and serious.

"Well … no, but I can learn!" Sapel was determined. "I want a blaster and I intend to buy one. Let's go in here and see what they've got."

There was no denying his determination, so the two went into the dusty, dimly lit shop. Sapel went at once to the proprietor and asked, "How much is that blaster in the window?"

The shopkeeper was a grizzled Human and a large puckered scar on one side of his face suggested that he'd had first-hand experience with just such a blaster. "Excellent choice, Master Vulcan," he grinned. "The Klingon Disruptor is standard issue throughout the Klingon Empire. It is comparable to a Number Two Federation Phaser in all respects except that it is considered more powerful with a muzzle velocity of—"

"How much?" Sapel repeated, interrupting the shopkeeper's spiel.

"Fourteen strips of gold-pressed latinum," answered the shopkeeper.

"For that piece of shit?" broke in Bully, glaring at the shopkeeper.

"But, sir, that very disruptor belonged to the great Commander Kang himself! I have the papers to prove it!"

"I wouldn't believe that if God himself tried to sell it to me." Bully turned to Sapel and ordered, "Find something else. And don't let this guy try to sell you the Mines of Kartoq in the process."

Sapel sighed and began looking through display cases. At the second one, a presentation of various knives, his gaze locked on one and he asked, "Can I see that one? That big one?"

"Ah, yes, you have a practiced eye, Young Master." The shopkeeper unlocked the back of the case and drew out a large hunting knife.

Sapel took it and hefted it carefully. "Romulan?" he asked.

"Why, yes, it is. Carbon steel blade, genuine leather on the handle—"

"Does it come with a sheath?"

"Again, genuine leather, hand-crafted—"

Without warning, Sapel was suddenly a blur and a nanosecond later the knife was quivering in the heart of an animal pictured on a paper calendar behind the shopkeeper. Both Bully and the shopkeeper let out a squeak of surprise and both ducked instinctively.

Sapel, however, was grinning in delight. "I'll take it!" he announced. "How much?"

The shopkeeper peeked from behind the counter, making sure that the young trader wasn't about to incite further violence. "Um, two strips of latinum?" he ventured.

"I'll give you fifty Federation credits for it and the sheath, providing that's in good shape."

"Excellent shape! It's in excellent shape!"

"Good. Wrap 'em up. Do you prefer a credit chip or straight up cash?" Sapel dug out his pouch, feeling better than he had in years. At long last he had a blade that matched the ones his parents had worn all the time they were on Avalon. He felt he was half-way home, at last.

* * *

The luggage and crates had been transported to the baggage check-in area of the Vulcan spaceport and were being loaded onto the _Kroel_ , ready for the long journey. The kids had all been down to the barns and pastures to say goodbye to the farm animals, where Soran had again thrown a tantrum because he couldn't bring his favorite _hox_ pony with him. Christine had removed him to the vicinity of the pumphouse to give him a "talking to". Spock had overseen the rest of the farewells and then herded his children back to the main house of Keldeen.

Christine was waiting for him, Soran in her arms, where he sniffled and looked cross, but behaved himself. Then the most difficult session came as they all said good-bye to Slohn, now master of the estate, and all the various relatives and employees. The Vulcans were all solemn, their emotions tightly in check, but Christine and T'Jenn didn't manage to completely contain their tears.

Chapel apologized profusely, but Slohn laid a hand on her shoulder and smiled sadly, "There is no need, my cousin's wife. The cause is sufficient. Within the family, all is silence and no one will speak of it further. I will miss you, Spock, and the children. You have been at the heart of Keldeen and your presence will never be forgotten. Remember, this is your home and you will be welcome should you return." He turned his eyes to his Vulcan cousin.

"Our thanks, Slohn," Spock replied. "But it is doubtful that we will be back. Avalon will be our home now and it is a very long journey back here. Live long and prosper, my kinsman." He held up his right hand in _ta'al_ and Slohn responded in kind, the two Vulcans pressing their palms together.

"Peace and long life, kinsman," Slohn responded then stepped back. "You should make haste to the shuttle or you will likely miss your boarding time at the port. Good journey, and good‑bye."

Christine smiled and hugged him briefly, which caught the big Vulcan by surprise. "Good‑bye, Slohn. Take care." As she turned away, she could have sworn there was a hint of moisture in his eyes.

There were no more reasons to delay and the family hurried down the front steps of the big sandstone house to the shuttle taxi awaiting them on the front drive. They were not going directly to the spaceport but to ShiKahr to a final meeting with Spock's parents.

Settling the children in and making sure all the safety harnesses were secured, Spock and Christine took their own seats and buckled in. The pilot engaged the thrusters and the little shuttle lifted into the air, rising above the buildings and turned toward its flight path over the Llangon Hills to the city beyond.

Christine noticed that Spock was silent, gazing pensively out the window, his jaw tight. "What’s wrong?" she whispered, leaning closer to him.

He shook his head. "I just realized that I will never see it again. Despite my long and frequent absences, Keldeen has been my home since I was nineteen. Now I have cut ties with it and with Vulcan. I did not expect the grief I would feel at the reality of it."

His wife reached over and laid her hand over his, their bond magnifying the empathy and comforting thoughts that she sent him. "Home is where the heart is, as the old Terran saying goes. Your heart is safe with us, my _s'hyla_. And don't give up on coming back someday. You can’t predict the future, you know."

Spock turned his gaze back to the woman beside him. "Always the pragmatist," he smiled, his eyes full of love. "Yes, we must look forward and not back." He squeezed her hand and then faced forward, still holding her hand.

* * *

Sapel found himself almost quaking in his boots as he and Bully stood in the lobby of Madame Xinda's establishment. The madam herself was a middle-aged, hefty woman wearing too much makeup and clothes that no longer flattered her thick physique. But the six younger women lined up for their inspection were breathtaking. Each one was beautiful and curvaceous, with come-hither eyes and an air of sexuality that made the young man's heart pound.

"It's the kid's first time," Bully confided to Madame Xinda. "He needs one who is nice and gentle and won't scare him to death."

"Understood," Xinda answered with a simpering smile. "In that case … Lonna, Trisa, and Myn, you can all go. Now … how about these three – Inna, Belleese, or Elyan? Each one is extremely adept at easing a young boy into manhood."

"Well, kid? Which one do you like?" Bully asked his companion.

Sapel gulped and found it hard to speak. "They … they're all so … so …"

"Yeah, but which one do you like best? Come on, we ain't got all day."

Sapel's gaze swept back and forth and landed on the last one, Elyan. Something about her was familiar … and then he knew. Elyan had long black hair, tanned skin and hazel eyes that were almost green. There was one girl in his past that he thought he'd been in love with, a Risan girl named Maia Hendrickson, and Elyan looked so much like her that for a second upon seeing her, Sapel had flashed back to the time they'd been together. They were both just kids then, but this beauty was what Maia must look like now.

"Elyan," he finally said. "I like her best."

"Excellent," chortled Madame Xinda. "You go with her and she'll make the arrangements. And you, sir?" she asked Bully.

"You can bring that Myn girl back for me. I like 'em sort of feisty," grinned Bully.

Elyan stepped forward and reached to take Sapel’s hand. "Come on, sweetie," she smiled. "This won't hurt a bit." And she led the young man through a set of bead curtains into the wonders beyond.

* * *

Beyond the bead curtains was a short hallway with doors along it. Elyan opened the first one on the left and stepped inside, Sapel following. The room was small, containing a bed and a little bedside table with some equipment on it, plus a straight-back chair in the corner. There was a window on the outside wall that was curtained so that the room was dimly lit, but at a touch, the woman activated a couple of sconces on either side of the headboard of the bed. Closing the door, she got right to business.

"First things first, sweetie pie," she said. "The price is two hundred Federation credits, either cash or card, or five strips of gold-pressed latinum."

Sapel was caught by surprise, his mind on the actual activities to come, and fumbled in his pouch for his finance card. Elyan took it and slotted it into a little machine on the table. "Okay." Elyan removed the card and handed it back to him, smiling. "The clock is running. If we go past an hour, you pay for the next one, too. It will be charged to your card."

Sapel gulped. "Um … yeah, okay." This wasn't turning out to be quite the romantic encounter he'd been expecting

But then Elyan's manner changed from prostitute to lover. She slipped her arms around his neck and drew him down into a warm kiss. It went on until she felt him relaxing and responding. "What would you like to do?" she asked softly as she lifted her lips from his.

"Um … I don't know," he answered a bit breathlessly. "I've never done this before." He still had his arms around her and was holding her lush body against his.

Elyan smiled and kissed his face, nuzzling around his short, neat beard and then down his throat. "Do you want to take your clothes off? It'll be better if you do."

Sapel hesitated for a second then steeled his nerve. Pulling out of her arms, he sat down in the chair and dragged off his boots, then stood and quickly undressed, placing his clothing, pouch and knife on the chair where he could keep an eye on them. Meanwhile, Elyan turned down the bed, revealing clean white sheets and then patted the bed and smiled.

"Come lie down," she invited.

A bit self-conscious at his nakedness, Sapel did so. The sheets were cool against his skin as he stretched out on his back, covering himself with the bed linens. He felt more exposed than he actually was and his manhood was already throbbing up erect as his heart pounded hard.

Elyan let her gaze roam approvingly over him. "You're a good lookin' guy," she said. "I'm surprised the girls haven't had you in bed before this!" Flipping back her long black hair, she slipped out of the gauzy covering she had worn and then stepped out of the matching bottoms. She slid into bed beside him, going into his arms, and for a while the two kissed and caressed one another as she gently eased him into forgetting anything but her.

With practiced movements, she let her hand slide across his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath his skin, then down his hip and finally between then, where she softly stroked the hard, hot flesh she found there. At first, he flinched at her touch then relaxed into it, shivering as her hand enclosed him and began a rhythmic movement up and down.

"Are you sure no one's done this before?" she queried, watching his dark eyes close and his upswept brows bunch slightly together.

"No," he answered, bending his forehead into her shoulder, eyes still shut. "No girl's ever…" He gasped as her palm moved over the head. "I mean, I've done it myself, but no one else…"

She murmured softly and rubbed her pelvis against the hot flesh she held, then flung her leg over his thigh, opening the way. "You can touch me, too, sweetie." With that, she released her hold on his erection and took his hand in hers, guiding his fingers to the warm, wet regions between her legs. His whole body jerked in response and for a moment she wondered if he was too close to coming, if this was too much stimulation, but then he gave a huge sigh and hesitantly began to explore her. She rolled onto her back, drawing him with her as he stroked and probed and dipped his fingers into her wetness. She could feel his swollen penis rubbing against her thigh as he gave in to his growing arousal, nuzzling one breast and sucking at the nipple.

He was ready she determined and reached over to the table to dabble her fingertips into a small pink jar, gathering some of the gel-like substance within. Moving back to face him, she reached and took his penis in her hand, smoothing the cool gel over the head and down the entire length. Sapel arched his back at her touch and gasped, almost unable to control himself. She continued to stroke him until she was satisfied that the gel had solidified into a transparent sheath, flexible but impervious. "This is a covering for your protection and mine. Just lie back and enjoy it."

Underneath her expert ministrations, the young man was throbbingly hard and she glanced at his handsome face, his eyes closed and his lips parted, his breath coming fast. It was time.

Urging him with soft, strong hands, she guided him atop her and between her spread thighs, reaching down to guide him to the gateway of her womanhood. He gasped out something in a language she didn't understand and gripped her shoulders with both hands, opening his eyes to meet hers, his expression questioning. He was trembling in an attempt to control his terrible urge to let go.

"It's okay," she whispered, sliding her arms around his slim torso. "Any time you're ready, sweetie."

"I'm ready now," he answered and suddenly gave a hard thrust with his hips, plunging into her welcoming passage, where he began to drive his hips against her, his teeth clamped together in concentration. It didn't take long before he slammed into her and gave a deep groan, and she could feel him pumping into her, although the gel condom stopped his flow from entering her.

At last, he relaxed and sank against her, sighing and looking down at her. "That was fantastic," was all he could say, still breathing hard. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I'm fine," Elyan replied and pushed at his shoulder so that he slipped off of her, still breathing hard. "I'm glad it was good for you, sweetie, for your first time. Let’s get rid of this." With an expert touch, she removed the gel sheath and dropped it into a container next to the bed. Then she stretched out and cuddled against him, running her fingers through the dark hair on his chest.

For a while, they simply rested quietly as he recovered. Then Elyan spoke up. "Can I ask you something, Sapel?" the woman queried.

"Sure."

"You're Vulcan, aren't you?"

"Partially. My mother and grandmother are both Human. My father is Vulcan."

"Aren't you supposed to have green blood?"

Sapel looked at her in surprise. "Well, yeah, full-blooded Vulcans do, but I am more Human than Vulcan. My blood is red."

Elyan laughed softly. "I wondered why you turned so dark pink when I was workin' you."

And at that Sapel blushed deeply again but echoed her laugh. "Now, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Is it okay if we do it again?"

"You're ready to go again so soon? I've heard about the virility of Vulcan men, but … sure. We can go as many times as you want to, Sapel sweetie," the woman smiled. "Just let me get you set again." Quickly, she had reapplied the gel and turned back into his arms. This time, Sapel took the initiative, beginning the lovemaking on his own terms.

* * *

The Human women had clung onto each other and cried gallons of tears, which set off all the children, even T'Kai who normally was as stoic as a native-born V'lchani. Sarek and Spock had been hard-pressed to keep their own emotions in check, both from the farewells taking place and from the backwash of intense distress flooding over them.

The last family meal had been a drawn-out affair, not intentionally, but because Amanda and Christine kept breaking down, despite their best efforts. But finally it was over and Amanda had been carried up to her bed, unable to walk, and now the last goodbyes were truly underway. The old woman's family stood around her bed and she beckoned each of her grandchildren to her in turn, holding them close and weeping and kissing them. She had given each one a small item of their choosing that was special to her and them, a keepsake that could be easily carried but would help them remember her. Then she exchanged hugs and kisses with her daughter-in-law and wiped her eyes once more as Christine ushered the children out of the bedroom, all of them waving and saying, "Bye, Granny! I love you, Granny!"

Finally, only Spock remained at his mother's bedside. He had stayed back until all of the others had left and now he stood stiffly, hands behind him. It was an awkward moment between the two, for there was much to say and neither knew how to begin. At last, Amanda broke the silence.

"May I at least give you one last kiss, Spock? I know you dislike emotion, maudlin or otherwise, but this really _is_ goodbye, you know."

"I know, Mother." He sat on the edge of her bed and leaned forward to take her frail body into his arms, holding her gently.

"You can hug me harder than that, Spock. I'm not that fragile." Amanda had put her arms around her son's neck and her grip was firm.

Spock tightened his hold and then stiffened abruptly. He made to draw away, but his mother refused to release him. Instead, she lowered her mental shields and he was washed with all her pain and emotions. Gasping, he broke the embrace and sat back, staring at her.

"How long...?" he managed to say.

Amanda's gaze and voice were both calm now. "How long have I known or how long do I have?" she asked.

"Both."

She sighed and looked down at her withered hands on the comforter covering her. "I was diagnosed about seven months ago. I've probably got about that much time left. No one knows for sure."

"But, why aren't you seeking treatment?" her son demanded, appalled. "Surely the doctors would be able to cure you!"

"Yes, but at the cost of weeks of nausea and pain and weakness. And in the end ... I would die anyway." Amanda brought her gaze back up and almost smiled at the expression on her son's face. "Spock, I'm 91 years old. On Earth, in that environment ... or better yet, in reduced gravity on a space station ... I might live another 20 years or so. But I chose to live on Vulcan long ago when I married your father. I knew that eventually my decision would catch up with me. Humans weren't bred to live on this planet. It shortens our lives to do so. No, let me finish! I have had sixty wonderful years with your father. I love him and this planet and the Vulcan people. But everyone dies, Spock. Everyone! Sometimes we get to select the way that end comes and sometimes we don't. This is my decision. I choose to spend my last weeks in my home, at peace."

"But ... does Sarek know this?"

"No -- and you are not to tell him!!" Suddenly her blue eyes were fierce, full of the strength and fire that had sustained her for so long. "I said I want to spend my last days in peace!"

"But ... surely you must tell him before you ... before..." Spock could not finish, stricken. "You know what will happen if he is unprepared when your Bond breaks."

"Yes, I know. And I will give him plenty of warning so he can prepare himself," Amanda assured him. She closed her eyes and looked suddenly exhausted. "I just don't want him fussing over me and making it more difficult than it already is. It's been a struggle to shield from him, but I don't think he suspects anything yet."

Spock shook his head in bewilderment, his thoughts whirling. "We can't leave you, Mother. I'll cancel our arrangements and we will stay with you--"

"No!" Just as quickly, the fire returned to Amanda's eyes. "You are not to cancel anything on my account! Besides ... do you think I could stand saying goodbye a second time? No, this will be our farewell, Spock. Don't worry about me and don't worry about Sarek. Just go and do what you do best ... what did Jim say once? Something about boldly going to new worlds? Go and make that new world a fit one for my grandchildren to grow up in. And ... try to find Sapel if you can. Tell him goodbye for me. And give him that." She indicated a small pewter figurine on her bedside table. It was a tiny dragon, sculpted in exquisite detail, wings about to unfurl, head lifted and curled as if listening, each scale distinct. "He used to love handling it and pondering over it. It really fired his imagination. Your great-grandfather passed it along to me when I was a child and I've always had it."

"I know. I remember it from my own childhood. I will give it to Sapel if ... _when_ I find him, Mother," Spock said solemnly, his throat tight.

"Now ... Christine and the children are waiting for you. They'll be wondering what's keeping you. One last hug, son, and be on your way." Amanda held out her arms and Spock caught her up in a tight embrace once more. "I love you, Spock," the old woman whispered. "You have been the best thing that _ever_ happened to me."

Spock buried his face in her frail shoulder and the tears finally came. " _Ko-mehkam_ ," he whispered back. "Mama..."

* * *

The _Mandalay_ had been in port for seven days, loading cargo for their next jump, taking on supplies for the crew, fueling the reactor, and giving the crew their last shore leave for a while. The women aboard had taken advantage of the shops to buy new fashions (at least those available here in the further reaches of Federation territory) and had treated themselves to manicures and pedicures, new hair colors and cuts, and little luxuries they'd have to forego until they hit the next spot of civilization. The men had done much the same, with professional haircuts and shaves, new clothes and shoes, and visits to the illicit entertainment venues that Lodestone had to offer. A few came back flat broke, courtesy of the gambling halls, but knew that they'd recoup their losses when the ship hit the next trading planet.

In the three days since his initiation at Madame Xinda's place, Sapel had headed there once his shift was over and would invariably ask for Elyan. If she was busy, he'd wait until her last customer had gone, pay his money, and spend a glorious hour or two with the woman. It wasn't just sex, although that was a big part of it, but Sapel had convinced himself that he was in love with the dark-haired beauty. In his limited, secluded experience, he'd never met anyone like her and somehow he had missed the reason for his attraction to her.

The truth was, somewhere in the back of his mind, she had become Maia, the lovely Risan girl he'd wanted to marry when the two of them were in their teens. Outside of his sisters, she had been the first girl his age that he'd ever known and her long black hair and emerald green eyes were melded in his soul. In the innocence of his youth, Sapel had decided that she returned his infatuation and he had begged her to return with him to Avalon and be his wife. But Maia had refused him, explaining that they were both too young and, besides, she had plans of her own … and he wasn't part of them. Sapel was crushed and, not long afterwards, had found himself living on Vulcan with his grandparents and being molded into perfect young Vulcan male. He had never completely forgotten his first adolescent love, and Elyan, who bore such a startling resemblance to Maia, had awakened his fantasies again. He couldn't stay away from her when he wasn't required to be working aboard the ship.

Now, before dawn on their eighth day on Samerin, Captain Ruddy Smith stood in the cargo hold surveying their load. Checking off items on his datapadd, he nodded to himself and announced, "That's the last of it. Good work, men--" to Bully and Sapel, "--and lady" to Jewel, Bully's partner. "We've got clearance to lift at 0845. If there's anything else you need to do in town, you better do it now and be back onboard by 0730. I'm closing up and starting jump procedures then."

Sapel's dark brown eyes widened and his brows lifted. "I do, Cap'n. Permission to leave the ship? I'll be back in time!"

Smith and Hardman exchanged knowing glances, then the captain answered, "You better hurry then, kid. Don't get caught with your pants down!"

Bully guffawed and Jewel slapped him reprovingly on the arm. "Stop teasing him!" she ordered.

"I didn't say nuthin'!" he objected.

"But you were thinking it!"

However, Sapel didn't wait around to hear more. Hurrying out the still open cargo hatch, he took off at a run for the small city a mile from the landing field.

* * *

The briefest slice of sunlight was showing over the flat prairie to the east when Sapel thundered to a stop before his goal. Madame Xinda's place was dark, closed at this time of the morning. Although there were lights showing in some parts of the downtown area, saloons mostly or early businesses such as bakeries, the red light district would not begin to stir until the daylight workers ended their shifts and sought entertainment.

Sapel did not know this and was taken aback for a few seconds before stepping up on the shaded porch and pounding on the door. There was no response, so he beat his fist against the ornate front door again … and again … and again … before there was movement and the light in the front parlor went on. Then the door was flung open and an irate Madame Xinda herself, clad in dressing gown and slippers, confronted him.

"What the hell do you want?!" she demanded, recognizing him. "We're closed! Come back later."

"I've got to see Elyan," Sapel responded.

"She's asleep. Come back tonight."

"I won't be here tonight. We're leaving in about two hours. I've got to talk to her now."

Xinda, familiar with the schedules of spacers, softened a little. "All right, come in and wait here. And be quiet! Don't wake anybody else up. I'll go see if she wants to see you."

Sapel gave a little grateful grin and stepped inside, seating himself on one of the velvet settees in the parlor. Xinda disappeared up the stairs and was gone for about fifteen minutes, during which the young man sat, anxiously jiggling one leg in impatience. Then Xinda was back with a sleepy, tousled Elyan following. She, too, was wearing a wrinkled robe and slippers, and was bare of makeup or ornament. She was also irritated. Xinda left the two alone and went back to her bedroom, although she kept the door cracked open to listen.

"Sapel," Elyan greeted him in disgust. "Do you know what time it is? What the hell do you want, anyway? I am not working, so forget about any screwing. If you're that horny, go find a bush and yank off behind it!"

He was shocked, but answered quickly, "No, no! I know it's really early, but we're leaving and I needed to see you one more time. I wanted to ask you … I wanted to ask you to come with me!"

"What?" The woman shook her head. "Are you kidding me? There's no way in hell."

"Yes, there is!" he insisted. "Just get your things and let's go! We can make it back to the ship before the Captain closes up for liftoff. I … I love you, Elyan, and I want to marry you."

Elyan's hazel eyes widened, then she sighed and took his hand, pulling him down onto the settee. "Sapel, sweetie, you’re so adorable you make me cry, but that is just not going to happen. For one thing … how old do you think I am?"

"Um … twenty-four or twenty-five. Why does that matter?"

She looked at him sympathetically. "Honey, I'm 42. I've got a son your age and a grandchild living over in another city. I've got a comfortable life in a comfortable profession here. I'm not just some cheap whore. I'm a registered sex worker, in a union which provides me with healthcare and good pay, and in a few more years, I'll retire on a good pension and go live with my family. You're not the first spacer who's been infatuated with me and wanted to run away to Goddess knows what part of the galaxy."

"But …"

"No, that's final. Now, you better hurry or you'll miss your jump time. If you come back here and I'm still working, then look me up. But, no. Thanks for asking, now skedaddle!" She stood, the tug on his hand insisting that he stand as well. Reaching up, she kissed his cheek and showed him the door. He was slow in responding and she frowned a little. "Go! Your captain won't wait and I need to go back to bed and finish my beauty sleep!"

Before he knew it, Sapel was back on the porch with the door closing and locking behind him. The light in the parlor went off and he could hear soft giggling coming from within. Hurt, the young Vulcan stood for a moment, then noted the position of the sun, now above the horizon and realized the time. Okay, the hell with her and this planet. He hurried away in the direction of the landing field.

He was out of breath when he reached the ship and Bully was watching for him at the cargo hatch. "Another five minutes and we'd've left without you. Did you see your girl?"

"Yeah," Sapel replied in a disgruntled tone. "And she ain't my girl. She's just a whore."

"Well, you'll find another one just as good," Hardman responded and tapped the comm unit beside the hatch. "He's aboard, Cap. You can seal 'er up."

"Acknowledged," the captain's voice said.

Hardman clicked the comm closed and slapped his young companion on the back. "Cheer up, buddy. I got news that'll make you feel better. Are you ready for this? Our next stop is Avalon! You can rescue some of them colonists' daughters from their virginity and find one that'll be anxious to settle down and raise a passel of kids."

Laughing, the big man walked away. "Now, come on. We've still got work to do before Cap lifts ship, then once we're in warp, you can tell me all about why this Lodestone dame was so fascinating."

Sapel barely heard him, though. Avalon! Terra Two! He was finally nearly home and settling down was the last thing he intended to do. As soon as he was clear of the ship, he was heading for the wilds of the planet of his birth.

* * *

Sarek saw them off with none of the emotion that had permeated the private leavetaking. Once they were aboard and settled in their cabins on the Vulcan-manned _Kroel_ , a freighter ferrying both colonists and equipment to Avalon, Sarek bade his son's family goodbye and then walked with Spock to the corridor leading to the main airlock. There, he drew Spock aside to speak privately.

"You are clear on your duties, I assume," the older Vulcan said.

"Of course, Father. Should we come into contact with any of the native population, I will act as liaison and interpreter between the Teel'a and Federation colonists and scientists," Spock answered. "I am also to direct all scientific exploration on the planet and report back at regular intervals with our findings."

"Very good. You will be going to the first colony. Three others are under construction at various places around the planet. Ambassador Lewis will be the overall planetary authority and official Federation representative. I am not entirely comfortable that you have not been placed in this position, given your extensive experience and knowledge of Avalon, but the Federation Council made this decision over my objections.'

"Understood."

"I would have preferred someone assigned to that post with more sensitivity to first contact situations with primitive species. Had you and Christine not already made first contact with several groups of natives, of course, the Council would have placed a planet-wide quarantine on Avalon in any case." Sarek almost sighed in frustration before his iron control reasserted itself. "I have studied Earth history, Spock. The instances of an advanced civilization inserting itself into a primitive culture have almost always resulted in the annihilation of that primitive culture. Please do everything you can to see that this does not occur on Avalon."

"I will do all that I can. I dislike the possibilities of what these colonies could mean to the Teel'a. I feel that the Council okayed settlement solely because of Avalon's position on the edge of Romulan space. They want a starbase there to watch the Romulans and I can only hope that it will be constructed far enough away from any Teel'a settlements to afford them a measure of isolation."

Sarek _did_ sigh, then. "Your mother would say, 'I have a bad feeling about this.'"

"Indeed." Spock's face mirrored his father's grim expression.

There was a chime that sounded from the ship's intercom and a male voice announced, "Attention, please! We will be lifting ship in exactly thirty minutes. All non-passengers and crew are requested to disembark immediately and return to the port terminal. All passengers will return to assigned quarters and secure any loose belongings. Repeat—"

"I must take my leave of you, Spock," Sarek said calmly. "If it is possible in the future, I will make the journey to Avalon and ... visit you."

Spock caught the hesitation in his father's words and suspected "visit" was not the term that Sarek had started to use. However, he let it pass and made a quick decision before his father could depart.

"Father, there is something I must tell you ... about Mother," he said quickly. "She asked me not to inform you ... but I ... I believe you need to know."

"About her cancer," Sarek replied quietly.

Spock let his surprise show for a second. "Yes," he answered. "You know then."

"Of course. She thinks that I do not and I have let her believe that. It comforts her to think that her condition is not a burden to me. However, she is not that adept at shielding her emotions and thoughts from me. I have known for months."

"Then you agree with her not seeking treatment?" Spock was shaken by this revelation.

"We all must do what we think is best, Spock. Ultimately, it is her life and death. I will make her as comfortable as it is within my powers for the time she has left. And I will alert you when the end has been reached." Sarek looked up and locked his deep brown eyes onto his son's. "Although I suspect that you will know when it does."

Spock nodded. "Yes. And you? Will you be all right?"

"Yes. I will know in time to break the Bond. And I have arranged a period of rest and therapy to help me recover afterwards."

The departure chime sounded again and the intercom voice said, "Attention! Departure in exactly twenty-five minutes! All non-passengers must disembark now! Repeat—"

Sarek held up his hand in _ta'al_ salute, palm outward, and Spock quickly returned his gesture. "Live long and prosper, my son. I wish you success and well-being in your new endeavor."

"Peace and long life, my father," Spock answered. He wanted to say more, but could not. It was not the proper Vulcan thing to do.

Sarek turned quickly and walked down the corridor toward the airlock, where a few other people were gathered and saying final goodbyes. Spock watched him go and disappear into the crowd, then returned to the quarters where Christine and his children were waiting.

"Are we ready to leave?" he asked his wife as she attempted to make sure her four youngsters were properly secured in their couches. It was a struggle with the twins, who were beside themselves with excitement and refused to stay seated.

"Yes," Christine replied, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face and looking up at her husband. "Let's get this show on the road!"

 

THE END


End file.
